


I'm Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me

by Phillipa19



Series: When I Land, You're Mine [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 21 year old Harry, 30 year old louis, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Sex, Ball Gag, Bottom Harry, Camera Sex, Daddy Kink, Daddymonth, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Facials, Gags, Insecure Harry, Insecurity, Intimidation, Jealousy, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Punishment, Rich Louis, Sex Toys, Slapping, Slight Pain Kink, Smut, Spanking, Sugar Daddy Louis, Top Louis, Voyeurism, background ziam - Freeform, but it's more like . . . pretend Zarry, ex-stripper harry, feelings get involved, larry - Freeform, there's a little Zarry if you tilt your head and squint, they use a tie basically, they're just friends really, zayn and liam like sex in public places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phillipa19/pseuds/Phillipa19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.</p><p>OR-<br/>Louis is Harry's sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Will Never Feel So Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Just . . . I'm sorry?  
> This is very smutty and I just . . . don't judge me, okay?  
> The initial idea came from the song 'Pretty' by The Weeknd, but without all the death and stuff. I just liked the idea that Louis was the older guy who pampers younger Harry and goes away on business a lot. It kind of got away from me a little. Harry also used to be a stripper because . . . why not? Also kinda inspired by 50 Cent ft. Justin Timberlake - 'Ayo Technology' obviously.  
> Okay, well, enjoy, I guess.
> 
> EDIT- There is now a part two to this because I'm weak.

When Harry was 19 and studying at university for an English Literature degree that everyone said would get him no-where in life, working part-time at a night-club and the rest of the time doing shifts at a local strip club, he hadn’t expected to be where he is now. Two years later, he’s sat in a high-rise flat overlooking the sparkling city of London, wrapped in a duvet and wearing a diamond bracelet that cost more than his old flat used to.

 

Harry was in his final year of uni, and he no longer worked at that strip club- although he still did a few shifts at the night-club just so he could spend time with his friends who worked there- because when he was 19 he spilled a drink all over a man who changed his life.

 

Two years ago Louis Tomlinson sat in The Pussycat Lounge- the unfortunately named strip-club Harry had worked at- in Harry’s section, and when he had rushed by, Louis had just happened to stand up and be soaked with the tray of drinks in Harry’s hands. Harry had babbled and attempted to wipe up the mess, in the process accidently hitting Louis in the crotch which made Harry even more incoherent, causing the older man to laugh so hard that he had tears in his eyes. Harry had been shouted at by his superiors and Louis had gone home. He'd thought that had been it between them. He'd had no clue.

 

Three weeks later Harry had been attempting to carry eight hardback books home from the library when he tripped and landed on his arse surrounded by said books. A few seconds later a shadow had fallen over him and he’d looked up to see Louis’ grinning face: “Are you incapable of walking in a straight line, love?” he’d asked and Harry had blushed bright red and frowned up at him. Louis had made it up to him by buying him a cup of tea from a local café. Harry had had no idea that letting the man buy him a drink would put so much more into motion.

 

Suddenly Louis decided to invade every aspect of his life, coming to the Pussycat and then to Lloyds- the night-club Harry worked at Wednesday and Thursday nights- whenever Harry had a shift. Finally Harry gave up and accepted one of Louis’ proposals for dinner.

 

He found out that Louis was 28, worked in some fancy company that did business all over the world, meaning he travels quite a bit. It also meant that Louis’ watch cost more than anything Harry had ever been in the vicinity of. Louis’ fancy sky-high flat had amazed him the first time he’d been invited up, he’d wandered around wide-eyed and terrified that anything he touched would break.

 

They’d dated casually for a few weeks, Louis taking any and every opportunity to buy Harry anything he so much as glanced at, “Do I need to walk everywhere with my eyes closed when I’m with you?” Harry would joke, making Louis roll his eyes without fail.

 

The first time they slept together it was because Louis came home to find Harry laid half-naked on his bed, the long expanse of pale skin only covered by a tiny pair of sapphire-blue, silk boxer shorts. Harry had been so nervous wearing them for him, but the look in Louis' eyes had made it worth it.

 

Harry moved into Louis’ flat before they even hit their one year anniversary, and Harry didn’t miss the smug smile on Louis’ face when Harry’s possessions began to mingle with his. Louis liked things like that; signs of ownership. To be honest Harry liked it too. Harry enjoyed being Louis’ and Louis’ alone. Liked the bruises from Louis' mouth that cover his body, likes the possessive hand on his hip whenever anyone gets too close to him, and likes the firm hand around his throat when they fuck; the growl of “Who do you belong to?”

 

That’s why when the men came to install the camera, he wasn’t all that surprised.

 

Louis was in Japan meeting with some huge company that his boss wanted to merge with, and he’d already been gone for three weeks. He wouldn’t be home for another fortnight.

 

The men came with a letter for Harry and said they’d be setting up a surveillance camera in the bedroom. The men had looked a little embarrassed, their cheeks pink and their eyes not quite meeting Harry’s. Harry had frowned a little but let them do their job, moving to the kitchen to sit at the island in the centre. He ripped open the letter and found a message in Louis’ hand writing;

 

Couldn’t stand not seeing your pretty face for much longer, so I took matters into my own hands. Be good, little one, I’ll know if you’re misbehaving.

xxxxxx

 

The men left and Harry wandered into the bedroom curiously, not really sure what to expect. That was when he first saw it. A camera, a fancy looking CCTV thing, sat high on the wall facing their bed; it would have a perfect and uninterrupted view. Harry’s breath had hitched in his throat as he saw the red light blinking- Louis could be watching him right now. He figured out quickly that there was no way to know if Louis was watching, but he also knew that Louis watched the tapes back to see what Harry had been up to, because on the second day he’d been sat in bed watching Friends and eating strawberries all morning, and later that night before he’d fallen asleep, he’d gotten a text off of Louis asking him if his lips were still stained red. Soon he started to try and communicate through the camera, would hold up a piece of paper saying ‘I miss you’, but when Louis’ responses started to get less frequent, Harry would attempt to provoke him. ‘I miss you’ became ‘I’m horny’, became ‘I want to be fucked’, until Harry gave up on the notes and began to touch himself on the bed, attempt to put on a show for Louis, whenever he decided to watch the tape. Still, he got no response. So Harry resolved to turn up the heat a little.

 

Now, as he sat in the living room, looking out on the city, he finally heard the buzzer from the entrance. He hopped up and ran to the intercom, pressing the button to speak.

 

“Hi, who is it?” he asked cheerfully, anticipation bubbling in his stomach. He hadn’t spoken to Louis in 6 days, he was done waiting around.

 

“Hi, I have a package here for you, Mr Tomlinson?” the nasally voice buzzes through and Harry smiled at the mistake and chose not to correct him.

 

“Okay, thank you. Send it up, please,” Harry says before walking to wait at the front door. The knock comes only five minutes later and Harry opens the door with a grin. The staff member looks at Harry clothed in only a pair of denim shorts and rolls his eyes. The staff here had gotten used to the fact Harry wasn’t ‘sophisticated’ a long time ago. At first he’d gotten a few polite but exasperated requests to not come down to the main lounge in his pyjamas when collecting his post or coming to talk to the staff, but after a few months they’d given up and their exasperation was tinged with an edge of fondness.

 

Harry took the parcel with a ‘thank you!’ and closed his door excitedly, almost running into the kitchen for scissors. He hacked open the box and pulled out the smaller box from inside, it was bright red with a black lace design around it. He opened it and giggled a little. He’d bought a dildo. Not just any dildo, one of those ones that looks like a real dick and has a flat end so that you can stand it up. And it’s pink. He picked up the little packet beneath it and even he blushed a little. He may have also bought a ball gag. It was all black and had spikes on the side that Harry had thought looked pretty badass at the time but now looked slightly scary. This was going to be interesting.

 

***

 

That night Harry took his time prepping himself in the bathroom, getting himself ready and shaking with the need to orgasm, his abdomen tight with want. He shakily pulled his fingers from himself and looked up into the mirror. His naked body was flushed and shiny with a layer of perspiration, his lips swollen from his teeth and tongue and his eyes wide and glassy. His arms trembled a little, especially the muscles in his right arm from the ache of the awkward angle he’d had to use to prep himself. His cock stood hard and red in front of him, the tip shiny with precome that’d smeared on his stomach a little.

 

He took a deep breath, quelling the nerves in his stomach. He hadn’t seen Louis in weeks, hadn’t spoken to him in days, he felt this nagging worry in him that Louis was bored of him. Maybe that was why he’d thought of this, why he’d shoved aside his insecurities, and forced himself to realise that if he wanted to keep Louis interested then he had to _be_ interesting.

 

He’d already dragged a chair from the dining room to stand in front of the foot of the bed, facing the camera and giving it a full view of what would happen there. He grabbed the dildo and gag from the side where he’d left them out of the camera’s sight, carrying them over to the chair. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the bathroom and looked up at the camera. He blinked up at it lazily for a few moments, gathering his confidence a little. He grabbed the dildo and squeezed some of the lube onto it, using a hand to spread the liquid over the surface of the toy.

 

He glanced up at the camera one last time before moving over to kneel on the chair with his legs slightly apart, his back to the camera, one arm braced against the chair-back, the other holding the dildo. He took a deep breath and moved the toy back, brushed the end of it over his entrance, felt his abdomen tighten in want. He leant forwards so his bum was displayed for the camera, turned his head slightly to peek up at the blinking red light as he slowly started to slide the toy inside of himself. His lips dropped open on a breathless moan as the toy made it to the halfway point. He took a second to breathe, stilling his movements as his body adjusted to the intrusion. The toy was nine inches total, and it’d been a while since he’d had anything but his own fingers at an awkward angle that didn’t allow for much depth.

 

He tensed his body again, began to push in that last half and groaned as the toy rubbed over his prostate. When the toy bottomed out, the flared bottom- made to look like fake balls- sat snugly between his cheeks and Harry had to mewl a little at the sensation, whispering Louis’ name helplessly before he bit his bottom lip stubbornly.

 

He shuffled back slowly, every movement making the toy brush his prostate teasingly, until he was stood before the chair. He turned to face the camera, chest heaving, eyelashes almost brushing his pink cheeks with how heavy his eyelids felt. He moved back, sitting down on the chair but having to jump up a little when the pressure on the base of the dildo sent pleasure shooting through his stomach. He reached a hand down to hold the base of the toy, his other hand holding the arm of the chair steadying, his legs spread wide, feet braced flat on the floor for leverage, and drew himself up until only the tip of the toy sat inside of him, the base sat on the seat of the chair as Harry hovered above it. The little suction cup on the bottom kept the toy mostly in place for him. Harry gave one last heated glance up at the camera before slamming his body back down onto the chair and onto the toy, his breath punched from his lungs at the sensation, and he didn’t stop. He lifted himself up and down, fucking himself onto the toy over and over, mouth open wide as whimpers of Louis’ name spilled from his tongue.

 

He felt his arousal build so stilled his motions, legs trembling, to reach over and grab the gag. Harry never broke eye contact with the camera as he slotted it in place, he knew it must look a little obscene, the large rubber ball stretching Harry’s red lips, the black, spiked straps harsh against his pale, blushing skin. He fluttered his eye lashes up at the camera before suddenly rotating his hips around the dildo, the sensation tearing a moan from his throat that came out muffled and erotic around the ball in his mouth. He began fucking himself onto the toy in earnest, chasing his orgasm. He snapped his hips up and down, the toy making an indecent sound as it slid in and out of his body.

 

Tears leaked from his eyes and his chest heaved desperately and he didn’t know how much more he could take of this, until suddenly it was all too much and just enough and not enough and he was coming. Coming so hard his vision whited out a little around the edges, stars flickering over his eyes. His body tightened in on itself and when he could move, he yanked the gag loose, taking a desperate breath through his mouth. He looked down at the cum lining his stomach and thighs, dripping from his skin and onto the chair before looking up at the camera, aware of how utterly _wrecked_ he must look right now. And grinned.

 

Harry unsteadily stood and walked out of view of the camera, dragging the filthy chair with him, feeling fucking powerful.


	2. You'll Be Banging On My Chest, Bang, Bang, Gorilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the actual 'daddy kink' gets involved so just . . . god I'm so ashamed of myself hahahaha.  
> I just hope you guys enjoy it

**3 days later**

 

Louis still hasn’t gotten in contact, and there is no way he could’ve missed what Harry did when he went over the tapes. To say Harry was pissed would be an understatement. He refused to sleep in the main bedroom, instead sleeping in the spare room down the hall, feeling justified in probably worrying Louis as to his whereabouts. Although, Louis probably wasn’t worried, he probably has the building staff keeping an eye on him.

 

Harry was feeling a little desperate when he walked into the club for his shift, he felt . . . itchy, unsettled. If he wasn’t owned by Louis, and owned him in return, then what was he? Who was he? He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out either.

 

Harry settled behind the bar but he kept getting the drinks wrong, and he’d already smashed two glasses in his distracted state, so he jumped a mile when a hand suddenly covered his, stopping him from going to grab another glass. Harry looked up and met Zayn’s concerned gaze.

 

“You okay, Haz?” Zayn asked, big brown eyes filled with worry.

 

“Louis hasn’t called in over a week,” Harry mumbled in a toneless voice, looking away from his friend.

 

“Maybe he’s just busy?” Zayn suggested but his voice was filled with his poorly masked doubt. Harry took a look around, making sure no one was in hearing distance before meeting Zayn’s eyes again.

 

“He got a camera installed in our bedroom,” Harry whispered and Zayn’s eyes widened almost comically, but before he could say anything Harry continued, “I tried . . . using it to my advantage, but it didn’t work,” Harry pouted. Zayn was silent for a few moments, obviously trying to process Harry’s words before sighing in resignation.

 

“Well . . . Then I guess we need to plan something more attention grabbing,” Zayn stated with a wry smile, obviously he already had a plan in mind.

 

“It’s gonna have to be big, I didn’t exactly read a book to get his attention last time,” Harry smirked and Zayn’s face took on a distinctly disgusted edge.

 

“I already know way too much about your sex life, please stop,” Zayn begged and Harry snorted.

 

“I caught you and Liam having sex in the supply closet,” Harry said with a pointed grin and Zayn shrugged just as Niall walked by and slapped Harry on the arse with a grin.

 

“And I caught them at it in the men’s toilettes last week,” Niall chimed in, earning a grin from Harry and a scowl from Zayn, before carrying on further down the bar to serve the customers Harry and Zayn were ignoring.

 

“Irish traitor,” Zayn muttered and Harry giggled a little behind his hand. “Shut up, daddy’s boy,” Zayn smirked evilly and Harry frowned as his eyes darted to make sure no one had heard that last comment.

 

“Shut up! That was said in drunken confidence,” Harry whispered forcefully, a blush burning on his cheeks.

 

“Come on, Haz. It’s not like I know anyone else who does that kind of shit,” Zayn laughed.

 

“It’s not that strange!” Harry insisted.

 

“Yeah, it kind of is,” Zayn grinned, but ruffled Harry’s hair to show he was joking.

 

“Doesn’t matter anyway, not like he wants anything to do with me anymore,” Harry replied glumly and Zayn frowned before pulling Harry in for a quick hug.

 

“We’ll fix this,” Zayn said confidently and Harry hoped he was right.

 

***

 

Their idea was . . . well, _risky_. Harry had a sore bum just thinking of the reaction Louis might have, but he’d prefer angry Louis to silent Louis any day.

 

Zayn came over at 10pm after their shift and they made sure to act flirty as they headed through the reception area, much to Zayn’s bemusement.

 

“You’re not seriously saying that he has spies on you?” Zayn scoffed as they finally made it inside the apartment.

 

“I know for a fact that at least two of the receptionists and one of the cleaners directly reports to him if they notice me going anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary,” Harry shrugged and Zayn openly gaped at him at that.

 

“That’s . . . strange,” Zayn said in a tone that implied stronger feelings.

 

“Maybe for you and Li, but . . . we’re different. It’s just how we work,” Harry explained and Zayn sighed at that.

 

“I guess as long as you’re happy it doesn’t matter,” Zayn replied reluctantly.

 

“I am happy,” Harry reassured him before frowning, “Well, not right now but, usually I am. He . . . he doesn’t do this kind of thing,” Harry whispered the last thing, wrapping his arms around himself. “Usually, I don’t doubt us, I never feel like he’d leave me, but . . . What if he’s bored of me? What if this doesn’t work because he doesn’t give a shit anymore?” Harry whispered, eyes wide and a little shiny with unshed tears. Zayn yanked him into a tight hug and he clung to his friend.

 

“Then he’s about to know that you don’t give a shit either-” Harry went to interrupt that statement but Zayn spoke over him- “He doesn’t have to know it’s not real, Haz. We only let him know it’s fake if he has the right response,” Zayn said firmly and Harry reluctantly nodded before sighing and pulling away from his friend. “Are you ready?” Zayn asked after a small silence and Harry had to press a hand to his stomach to soothe some of the nerves twisting there.

 

“Yeah, I can do this,” Harry said with false confidence and Zayn leaned up to kiss his forehead softly.

 

“Let’s get your man back,” Zayn said with an appropriately cheesy smile.

 

Harry walked ahead, stripped down to his boxers, and padded into the bedroom and into view of the camera. They had a backup just in case Louis got especially mad and didn’t believe Harry that this was faked; Zayn put his phone on record by the door, out of sight of Louis’ camera.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed in his tiny black boxers, looked up at the camera and gave it a playful smirk, as if he were about to do a repeat of the show he’d given a few days ago. He looked to the door and put as much lust as he could into his expression. Zayn stripped until he was clad in only his black skinny jeans, grabbed the ball gag from the chest of drawers, and padded over slowly to stand in front and just to the side of Harry, his back to the camera and Harry still mostly in its view.

 

Harry tipped his head back, mouth open slightly, eyelids low. Zayn lifted a hand to thumb at Harry’s bottom lip before leaning down to ‘kiss’ him. They’d worked it so Zayn’s lips actually only caught the corner of his mouth, but the angle plus Zayn’s wide shoulders hid the truth from view. They played at that for a few moments before Zayn pulled back and reached up to place the gag in Harry’s mouth, and out of view of the camera, Zayn was biting at his bottom lip, keeping back a nervous giggle, his cheeks a little pink. This was why he’d trusted Zayn. Zayn wasn’t comfortable, wasn’t enjoying it, but he was doing it for Harry. Harry also owed Liam big time since he’d run the idea past him and Liam had agreed on the stipulation that he and Louis have to take Zayn and him out for a stupidly expensive meal when this is all over.

 

Once the gag was in place, Zayn gave Harry a slightly apologetic look before reaching back to grab his hair and _pull_. Harry’s head was yanked back, his neck arched and bared for Zayn to ‘bite’. They carried on like that for a little while until Harry reached up and grasped Zayn’s hips, and just as they’d planned- despite Zayn’s hesitations- Zayn yanked his hands away and slapped Harry across the face in punishment for his misbehaviour, it threw Harry’s head to the side, a good slap all things considered but not really painful, more of a slight sting. Before Zayn gripped his jaw hard as Harry had stressed that this had to be believable, and leant down to say- loud enough for the mic on the camera to pick up, because yeah, Harry had found that little fucker after a bit of exploration and some googling- “You gonna be good for Daddy?”. Harry could see the cringe in Zayn’s eyes, but his voice was spot on, and Harry nodded as much as he could in Zayn’s tight hold. Zayn then moved his hand to Harry’s hair and yanked, pulling him up and off the bed so Harry had to walk bent over and follow Zayn out of the room or risk his hair being pulled out.

 

As soon as they left the room Zayn released his hair and turned to him with a worried expression, reaching up to pull off the gag. Harry worked his jaw a little as Zayn threw the gag onto the couch and returned his gaze to Harry, putting a hand on his slightly red cheek.

 

“Are you okay? Fuck, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard, I’m sorry, Haz,” Zayn babbled and Harry couldn’t help but smile fondly- if only Zayn knew just how far Harry could go before he couldn’t take it any more. But Harry didn't want to freak his friend out any more than he already had with all of this.

 

“I’m fine, that was barely a tap,” Harry shrugged and Zayn let out a relieved sigh.

 

“God, I don’t know how either of you keep a straight face with that shit, me and Li would end up in hysterics, and he’d probably cry if I asked him to slap me,” Zayn said with a roll of his eyes, his body less tense now. They both pulled on their clothes.

 

“Thanks for this, though. I know it’s a little weird . . .” Harry trailed off uncertainly.

 

“Nah, it’s whatever. Just glad I can help, well, let’s hope this helped anyway. Li would probably kill me first and ask questions later if he thought I’d cheated,” Zayn shrugged.

 

“Louis is possessive, even if he’s mad at me for it he’d still want to . . . To claim me because of it,” Harry said, trying to ignore the worry in his stomach because . . . what if Louis didn’t care?

 

***

 

The next morning and there was not a single notification on Harry’s phone. 10 days now. 10 days without hearing Louis’ voice, without feeling cared for at all.

 

Harry got up and half-heartedly ate a banana for breakfast, too miserable to make anything proper. Harry looked at the clock and realised that it was almost 11am, meaning he’d missed his morning lectures. He shrugged, he wasn’t in the mood for class anyway.

 

Harry moodily stripped and jumped in the shower, letting the water soak his hair so it fell over his eyes in a wet curtain of deep brown, his curls washed down the drain. He stood there for a few minutes before forcing himself to start actually having a wash- that was when he heard it. A thud or maybe a footstep. Fantastic. He gets pretty much dumped and now he’s getting robbed, fucking perfect.

 

Harry lifted a shaky hand to push back his hair, blinking blearily but not able to see much through the condensation on the glass door of the walk in shower. He lifted trembling fingers to cut a swathe through the condensation, and what he saw made him jump and his eyes widen. Because there stood Louis, leaning back casually against the opposite wall, eyes dark and unreadable as he silently watched Harry.

 

For a few moments Harry could do nothing but stare, but then he lifted his hand, missing the latch twice before he finally got the shower door open. Cold air swirled around him as he leant back to shut off the water. He took a deep breath, unsure how to act, before stepping out of the shower and into full view of Louis, no steam to hide behind. Harry went to grab a towel but froze when Louis silently shook his head. Harry decided maybe grovelling was his best bet right now; he’d get to shout at Louis for abandoning him later on when his older lover wasn’t so mad at him for 'cheating'.

 

Harry hesitantly stepped closer to Louis before going to his knees in front of him, leaning forwards to nuzzle into Louis’ hip, his wet hair causing damp patches on his clothes. For a second Louis seemed to waver and his hand came up to stroke over Harry’s wet hair, making Harry sigh helplessly.

 

“Daddy,” he whispered and he felt Louis shudder before he tensed and the hand in his hair turned harsh, gripping the damp strands and yanking back, so Harry was forced to look up at him. Harry looked up at him, lips parted and panting, as Louis looked down upon him, face hard and merciless. Harry was already semi-hard and being naked didn't leave him with anywhere to hide the depth of his need for this man.

 

“Seems I’m not the only one you say that to,” Louis purred with a pretty smirk that barely disguised his fury. He was an intimidating sight, dressed immaculate in an expensive suit and a forest green tie that echoed the tones in Harry’s eyes.

 

“Only did it to get your attention,” Harry whispered and Louis narrowed his eyes in reprimand. Harry bit his bottom lip, knowing he shouldn’t have spoken without permission.

 

“I know you did. Thing is, I know that Zayn wouldn’t cheat on Liam. I know that you and Zayn are only friends. What I don’t know, is why you thought it was acceptable to kiss and touch another man, even just as an act?” Louis said in a questioning tone that was deceivingly casual. Harry knew better than to answer him. Suddenly Louis’ eyes hardened and Harry’s breath caught in his throat with nerves. “Get on the bed, hands and knees,” Louis commanded and Harry scrambled to obey, almost running to the bedroom.

 

Harry clambered onto the bed, and dropped down onto his elbows when Louis tapped his shoulder, pressing his cheek to the duvet and blushing at the thought of what he must look like. He didn’t get long to ponder that though as a sharp sting shot through his arse cheek and he yelped, moving before he could stop himself, until he was sat up and panting, staring at Louis with wide eyes.

 

“Did I say you could move?” Louis voice was soft, alluring, and completely fucking delicious. Harry shook his head on a soft whine that he couldn’t help making. He crawled to the edge of the bed, kneeling up and pressing his hands and face to Louis’ abdomen. Louis yanked his head back by his hair once again, the hold firm but not all that painful, and his other hand shot out to slap across Harry’s cheek, a little harder than Zayn’s had been. It stung a little but didn't hurt all that much. Harry's erection jerked as arousal pulsed through his abdomen. His hand then gripped Harry’s jaw, clenching tight as he leaned down so Harry couldn’t escape the unrelenting blue of his eyes. “Now get on your fucking hands and knees,” He ordered and Harry moved as soon as Louis released his grip, returning to his previous position and bracing himself for the smack. It came seconds later.

 

Louis spanked him until Harry’s bum throbbed with a deep ache. Until Harry was hard and leaking against his stomach. Until tears leaked from his big green eyes and his mouth spilled plea after plea for Louis to fuck him.

 

Finally he stopped and Harry dragged in desperate breaths. Suddenly Louis’ hand was around his neck and he was yanking him back until his back pressed to his suit clad chest and his sore bum brushed his trousers hard enough that he stuttered out a sob of pleasure. Louis’ lips were at his ear then.

 

“Who do you belong to, baby?”

 

“You, g-god, you, Louis,” Harry gasped, hands reaching back to clasp Louis’ cloth covered thighs, his fingers squeezing helplessly at the hard muscle.

 

“Who fucking owns you?” Louis asked and Harry understood.

 

“ _You_ , daddy, only you. I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I p-promise,” Harry babbled wetly, tears still leaking from his glassy eyes.

 

“Good boy. And are you ever going to let another man touch you like that again?” Louis purred, running his lips up and down Harry’s neck, making him shudder desperately.

 

“No, _never_. I’m yours, daddy, just yours,” Harry blathered, trying as hard as he could to stay still but also convince Louis that he’d never actually cheat on him.

 

“Show me,” Louis murmured teasingly in his ear and Harry’s dick visibly twitched. Louis wrapped a hand around to press against Harry’s abdomen firmly, mockingly close to where Harry wanted him.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Harry begged brokenly making Louis chuckle darkly, his teeth grazing Harry’s neck warningly. Louis wasn’t in a playful mood, he was in a punishing mood. But Harry felt no fear, no doubt that Louis would ever cross those lines they'd put in place at the start of their relationship, their dynamic built upon a soul deep trust that they would never hurt each other intentionally.

 

“Lay on your back. Open yourself for me. And do it well, baby, because I’m not going to be gentle,” Louis purred and Harry whimpered before moving to the head of the bed and leaning his back up against the pillows. He looked at Louis with wide eyes and Louis took pity on him, didn't make him crawl to get the lube, grabbing it for him from the bedside drawer and throwing it to Harry. He stood at the end of the bed, legs parted slightly, arms crossed, and face utterly expressionless.

 

Harry swallowed heavily before slicking his trembling fingers, closing his eyes for a few moments to gather himself, before looking up at Louis as he reached down and slid his fingers over his hole. Louis’ eyes were locked on Harry’s, not letting his younger lover look away for even a second as he finally slid in the first finger.

 

Louis’ hands lifted and moved to undo his tie, and in Harry’s eagerness his hand twitched and thrust his finger in deep before he was really ready, making him groan and bite down hard on his lower lip at the light sting of pain. Louis continued getting undressed, his movements lazy and controlled as inch by inch of tan, tattooed skin was revealed. It was something Harry loved; the knowledge that no one else knew about the tattoos lurking underneath those expensive suits. Harry was probably one of the few people who knew their meanings, and the only person who knew the meaning behind every single one. Louis had told him one evening, and Harry relished the knowledge, the piece of Louis that no one else had.

 

When Louis was naked he picked up his green tie, wrapping it around his fist, those blue eyes never leaving his. In his rapt state he’d managed to work himself up to three fingers, pumping them slowly, and feeling frustration in the pit of his stomach at the difficult angle he had.

 

“Louis,” Harry whined and Louis cocked his head to the side, pulled the tie tight between his hands.

 

“Did I say you could say my name, baby?” Louis asked, voice filled with rough sex and vindictive pleasure. Harry didn’t know how to handle it anymore. He couldn’t take the longing for much longer; he’d been begging for Louis’ attention for 10 days. 10 days he’d felt alone and unwanted. So he’d beg for every breath he took, for every glance Louis gave him, for every single fucking moment that Louis was acknowledging him. He wasn't too proud to admit that he loved this man with his every breath, and feeling like he was no longer loved in return had hurt Harry's heart.

 

“ _Daddy_ , please. Please, fuck me. Please, I can’t- I need- J-just _please_ ,” Harry whimpered out, frustrated tears leaking once again from the corners of his eyes. Louis gave one firm nod and Harry removed his fingers, crawled inelegantly across the bed to Louis, and knelt up in front of him with need blazing bright from his every pore. Louis lifted a finger and twirled it leisurely, so Harry quickly turned so his back was to Louis.

 

“Hands,” Louis said quietly and Harry clasped his hands behind his back. Louis used his pretty green tie to tie Harry’s wrists together at the small of his back, the fabric biting into his skin if he shifted even slightly. Louis’ hand came up to tug Harry’s face to the side, finally kissing Harry over his shoulder, and Harry felt something tight and hurting inside his chest loosen. He was okay. Louis was here. Louis still wanted him. He was loved.

Louis pulled away from the kiss despite Harry’s noise of protest, pressing his forehead to his younger lover’s, their sweaty skin sticking lightly to each other’s. “Ready, baby?” Louis whispered, the words stroking over Harry’s swollen lips.

 

“Always,” Harry murmured and he caught Louis’ smile.

 

“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you until you’re ruined for anyone else,” Louis said softly, affectionately, and Harry’s heart froze and jumped in his chest as he exhaled hotly onto Louis’ lips, eyes begging now. Louis suddenly pulled away and shoved hard between Harry’s shoulder blades until the younger boy was face down on the quilt, his bum up and at perfect hip height for Louis.

 

Louis leaned over to grab the bottle of lube and the movement caused the tip of his dick to brush over Harry’s arse cheek, making him bite his bottom lip so hard he tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

 

When he felt the first touch of Louis’ tip against his entrance Harry couldn’t help but blurt out his thoughts.

 

“I love you,” Harry gasped out as Louis began to push inside, the initial part was mostly a slight burning pain as his body stretched, but Harry had always liked a touch of pain with his pleasure, and his dick leaked pitifully beneath him.

 

As Louis finally bottomed out, they both took a moment to breathe, Harry’s body shivering with shocks of pleasure.

 

“Baby, I love you more than anything in the world. But if you go near another man again-” Louis’ hand grasped the tie around his wrist, his other gripping Harry’s hip, as he began to pull out until only the tip remained inside of Harry, “I’ll lose my fucking mind.” Louis growled before thrusting back in all the way, Harry let out a long, deep moan, feeling that thrust in the very tips of his toes. From that point on Louis was relentless. He’d pound into him over and over and over, but as soon as he felt Harry get close, he’d switch to long, slow drags until Harry was a shivering, begging mess beneath him. His grip on the tie meant he could yank Harry back hard into his thrusts.

 

“Please, daddy, let me cum, please,” Harry begged pitifully, sobbing openly between his moans, his dick hard and throbbing, untouched beneath him.

 

“Are you going to be good, Harry?” Louis asked, his voice a husky stroke down Harry’s spine.

 

“Yes, I promise, yes, yes, yes . . .” That last word was dragged out as Louis sped up his thrusts and reached a hand beneath to grip Harry’s cock, pumping quick and tight until seconds later Harry was yelling and coming, pushing his face into the covers to mute his moans a little as Louis fucked him through it. Four thrusts later and Louis was pulling out. He gripped Harry’s shoulder and yanked him around to face him. Harry gave him a lazy, questioning look before looking at the hand Louis had around himself and smiling slowly. Looking up into Louis’ eyes as he opened his mouth wide. Louis began to pump himself faster until his cum hit Harry’s face, some sliding into his mouth and onto his tongue.

 

When Louis gasped and finally finished, Harry swallowed what had landed in his mouth and looked up at Louis innocently, could feel the cum that was cooling on his face and shining on his lips. Louis’ chest was heaving and he lifted a hand smudge his thumb through the cum on Harry’s cheekbone before pressing it into his mouth for Harry to suck, which he did happily.

 

Louis picked his shirt up off the ground and used it to gently wipe away the rest of the mess on Harry’s face, reaching around to untie Harry’s wrists, before climbing into the bed and opening his arms wide. Harry settled between them with a delighted smile, nuzzling into the sparse hair on Louis’ chest, ignoring his aching shoulders and arms.

 

“You’re home,” Harry murmured happily and Louis pressed a kiss to his hair, his hands rubbing over Harry's shoulders to ease his aching muscles.

 

“I’m home, baby,” he replied. Harry found that he wasn’t so angry anymore. He didn’t feel the need to confront Louis, he felt like he’d done something bad too and if Louis could forgive him for that then he can forgive him for a little radio silence. They'd both fucked up.

 

Looks like he owes Zayn and Liam an extortionately priced meal, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you guys enjoyed my contribution to 'Daddymonth' :) Please let me know what you thought, because I'm very new to this kink and I got talked into this haha,  
> My tumblr as always is http://thedeliciousrude.tumblr.com/ xxx

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really love to hear what you guys think. 
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr at thedeliciousrude if you'd like to come say hi :)


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